Revelation of the God of Order (2)

Clusters of vibrant flowers bloomed all around the altar. An elegant middle-aged man rose to his feet and gently extended a hand. A flurry of flowering branches trembled and actively reached toward him; as if alive, the blossoms deliberately nudged their neighbors aside in their eagerness to be caressed. A smile touched the man's lips. He was handsome, and though in his middle years, time had only imparted a rich, mellow depth to him without leaving the slightest mark of contrivance. He had just finished his daily external reconnaissance routine. As he stepped down from the altar, the flowers that had drawn close at his beckoning withered and died in an instant. The quarters in the Church of Life's encampment were small huts woven from vines. Pushing open the door, the man walked inside. Two women lay on the bamboo bed within, both completely naked. Last night's campaign had brought him a resounding victory; his two vanquished opponents still lacked the strength to get up. He poured himself a glass of red wine, admiring yesterday's battlefield and his newly claimed "captives." Just then, footsteps came from outside. The man immediately waved a hand. Vines peeled away from the walls, wrapping around the two women and viciously piercing into their bodies. They jolted awake instantly, but before they could even utter a scream, they were drained into desiccated corpses within seconds, then swiftly minced into pieces. Even the bamboo bed split open from within to swallow them whole; when it flipped back, the bed looked impeccably clean. The person outside walked in: a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, leaning on a black vine cane, his gaze carrying an innate authority. The man immediately bowed with great respect. "Elder Brother, you're here." The newcomer sniffed the air, closed his eyes, and said with great helplessness, "Grihar, you know where this place is, don't you?" "Elder Brother..." "Change the address." "Yes, Corps Commander Tartas. I couldn't control myself. You know my habits. Back home, she watches me constantly, and I have zero freedom. Now that I've finally had the chance to come to the army, I've really been cooped up too long." Hearing this brazen, depraved excuse, Tartas felt no anger, only letting out a sigh. He knew what kind of temperament his brother had. Even at a tender age, he had already "devoured" all the maidservants who tended to him. When he grew a bit older, he entangled himself with socialites and noblewomen. He wasn't romantic; he was purely lustful. Later, the family arranged a marriage for him. The bride's family held an exceedingly high status within the church, and that sister-in-law was a formidable, ruthless figure herself, keeping him thoroughly intimidated. Consequently, over all these years, whenever he had a chance to venture outside, he behaved like a ravenous wolfdog, devouring whatever crossed his path without discrimination. "Indulge if you must, but remember to clean up properly. What happened with that child cannot happen again." Grihar said, "Back then, I said we should get rid of that crazy woman and that bastard child, but none of you agreed." "Was it us who disagreed? It was your wife who refused. She enjoyed that feeling; she was mocking the mother and son, and at the same time using the opportunity to mock our family." "But later, she agreed." "By then, it was already too late. The child had demonstrated remarkable talent, gaining the appreciation and protection of several elders, and was even bestowed a branch from the Tree of Life. Erasing him by force then would have cost far too high a price. "Besides, Father wanted to bring him back into the family, but the child, by then grown, chose to refuse. "From then on, Father spent countless sleepless nights. That child became a persistent heartache of his, because Father knew deep in that boy's heart lay a profound hatred for our family. "He ended his mother with his own hands, yet left a large empty plot right beside her grave. What he intended to do was all too clear. "Pity the God of Life did not grant him a long enough lifespan to climb to the upper echelons. Otherwise, at his rate of progress back then, in twenty or thirty years, if he still hadn't let go of that hatred, our family might very well have been overturned and crushed by him." "He's dead, isn't he? Just a little bastard, dead anyway. Heh, he died in this very desert, too." "Fortunate that he died. Otherwise, five or ten years down the line, Father or I would have tied you up and delivered you to him to vent his fury." Grihar was left speechless. Tartas continued, "The supplies you brought this time were very timely. The Church of Earth also expressed their thanks to us. The allied army's logistical problems remain far too complicated and severe." "Is the Order legion about to bite?" Tartas nodded. "They've taken the hook. We're preparing to draw the net. It's just that this legion's equipment is exceptionally good; swallowing them whole will inevitably cost us something. Without the supplies you delivered in time, we would have had to sacrifice even more of our believers' lives." "It's all my duty, Brother. We must avenge Bilien. He was your son, but he was also my nephew." "To this day, I still can't figure out why Bilien's defense line fell so quickly. The Church of Earth is equally puzzled. The other defense lines are still holding strong and putting up a good fight. Bilien's was supposed to be the easiest to defend." "Brother, what's the point of dwelling on that now? I think analyzing how the Church of Earth's clay figures were cracked so quickly by Order would be far more useful. Those Earth people have always been brimming with confidence over their clay figure communication methods." "That's simple enough. If Order took prisoners and had them operate the clay figures, wouldn't that explain it? Or, even if they didn't take living prisoners, don't they have the ability to make the dead stand up and move briefly? "Fortunately, the commander on Earth's side isn't a fool; he noticed the anomaly right away. Even better, that Corps Commander named Karen is young and impetuous after all. Cast out a piece of bait, and he took it." "Haha, that's only natural. If I had achieved that kind of status and prestige at his age, I'd be even more arrogant." "Do more practical work. Now that you're here, earn yourself more military merits." "I will, Brother." "Mm." Tartas walked outside. Instead of heading to his command headquarters, he went before a vast open space in the encampment. The center of the open ground was sunken, and at the edge stood an elevated structure resembling a podium. Tartas walked over, came to a halt, and pressed his hand against it. A faint green glow gathered, and before long, a book bloomed like a fresh flower. A group of generals appeared behind Tartas. "Have all units move into ambush positions. They'll be entering the encirclement tomorrow. Notify the Church of Earth; I hope nothing goes wrong on their end." "Yes, Corps Commander!" "Yes, Corps Commander!" The generals quickly departed. Tartas, flipping through the book before him, chanted under his breath. Gradually, a bluish-green liquid appeared in the center of the sunken open ground ahead. The liquid slowly accumulated and expanded, ultimately forming a green pond within the military camp. "Mighty lifeforms sacrificed in the *Eulogy of Life*, now I, Tartas Defoe, through the bond of devotion to the God of Life, summon you forth! In the defense of the Tree of Life, your dedication and sacrifice are required, and your imprint shall forever live upon the trunk of the Tree of Life, never to be forgotten." *Glub... glub... glub...* A giant scythe thrust out from the green pond, followed by an enormous mantis. Pitch-black all over, its eyes radiated chilling murderous intent. A priest holding a purple flower approached it. It rose and followed the flower away. Next, a massive rhinoceros clambered out of the pond. Solid scales covered its body, and around its joints, fierce flames continuously swirled. Likewise, another priest holding a purple flower guided it away. The summoning continued. Powerful, colossal monster beasts kept emerging from the pond, guided away, and deployed across the battlefield. When placed on the battlefield, these enormous beasts were terrifying war machines. As monster beasts continuously emerged, the green liquid in the pond receded. When only a small pool the size of a mirror remained, Tartas knelt down and began the final chant. "O ancient and great Tree of Life, I pray you bestow upon me true wisdom, and guide me to fight in defense of your majesty!" That final pool of green liquid floated up, condensing into a winged purple spirit. It was tiny, only the size of an ordinary person's head. It flew before Tartas and opened its eyes—within the sockets were no eyeballs, only pitch-black voids. Tartas raised both hands, preparing to receive it. This was the "wise spirit" from the Church of Life's war arts. It possessed immense analytical, command, and control capabilities. It was said that in the previous era, one could even summon a wise spirit with divination abilities. Yet after waiting for a long time, Tartas still did not feel it land in his palms. Curiously, he looked up, only to find the spirit's body beginning to peel away as strands of golden thread surfaced across its form. Delight showed on Tartas's face. He had actually summoned a "wise spirit" with divination abilities! The wise spirit descended, planting its feet upon Tartas's palms. A connection formed between its feet and Tartas, with Tartas now supplying life force to sustain its existence. Golden threads began spreading outward, and from its mouth issued murmurs like those of an infant. Tartas asked, "Will we achieve victory in this battle?" The wise spirit seemed about to answer, but just then, an unseen hand in the unseen depths seemed to clamp down on its neck, rendering it unable to make a sound. This sight made Tartas's eyes widen. *Eee-ya...* The wise spirit wailed. Ultimately, the golden threads across its body dispersed, and it gradually reverted into an ordinary wise spirit. Tartas merely received a clearer mind and sharper calculating and deducing faculties. The wondrous divination ability had, in the end, eluded him. Yet Tartas felt no disappointment. On the contrary, he felt excited. The golden threads that had appeared on the wise spirit meant the power of the Tree of Life was steadily awakening, capable of channeling even stronger backing into war arts like this. Coupled with the turmoil in the Church of Order and the oracle from the Gate of Samsara... did this mean the two master gods of the Church of Life were about to return? "I must record what just happened and report it back to the church." Tartas merely assumed subconsciously that the wise spirit's divination ability had been interrupted because the footsteps of the gods' return, though stirring, were not yet close at hand. Thus, he overlooked another possibility: The divination had worked, but the result of the divination was unspeakable. *** *Drip... drip... drip...* The familiar sound of dripping water "woke" Karen from his sleep. He felt helpless, having only just managed to fall asleep amid the rumbling din of the marching army. He deliberately ignored it, but after waiting a while, this dream scene—familiar beyond counting—not only failed to fade, but also began producing an "eee-ya... eee-ya..." wailing like a child's cries. Karen had no choice but to open his eyes. He saw the familiar pool of water. Well, the sickle that should have been familiar was absent. Standing up, he walked to the edge of the black pool and looked down. In the reflection, Karen saw a child-like figure facing away from him, wrapped tightly in dense golden threads. "What is that?" Karen was slightly bewildered. He remembered that at the bottom of this pool, he had once heard what seemed to be the voice of the God of War. Don't tell me the God of War—renowned in the mythologies of the previous era—actually looked like a palm-sized toddler? If so, then the reliability of murals had truly collapsed completely. The infant in the reflection began turning around, the threads on its body growing denser and denser. Finally, it turned fully around and saw Karen. Then, it opened its mouth. In an instant, every golden thread on its body was stained black, violently constricting around its neck. It writhed in torment, suffering, agony, and terror. Karen frowned at the sight. Even now, he was still wondering if this was the imprisoned God of War. After all, different professions were worlds apart. Karen had learned many things, but there were far more things he hadn't learned. One field he had rejected and deliberately avoided from the beginning was... divination. From witnessing Linda's murals to experiencing Mr. Bede's bizarre choice, Karen harbored great aversion toward "divination." That was acquired; innately, he had never been interested in such mystical charlatanry. Now, having Piaget around to occasionally mail him a painting was more than enough. He had no desire to carry a crystal ball around all day, spouting crazy, ambiguous prophecies. Consequently, Karen had no idea at all that someone had just performed a "divination" on him. Still, whether he knew or not changed nothing. Any divination involving divinity, once it touched him, would only make things far worse for the one doing the divining—because Karen himself was a colossal... contaminant. Quite literally, the kind that polluted the eyes of anyone who looked at him. *Eee-ya... eee-ya...* The golden threads on the infant turned completely black, and gradually, it dispersed, or perhaps sank deep into the bottom of the pool. Karen glanced around and frowned slightly. He found this dream rather baffling. Then he looked up. "Sigh, I'd better wake up." *** *Buzz!* Opening his eyes, Karen sat up from the bed. A lamp was lit in the tent. Little Kanna was sitting at the desk, doing homework. She had originally thought there wouldn't be any homework once they reached the army camp, and indeed there hadn't been at first. But later, Purr felt she was too idle and forcibly amended the *Homework Act*, abolishing homework exemptions during wartime. "Kanna, pour me a glass of water." Little Kanna set down her pen, walked over, poured Karen a glass of water, and dropped in a few ice cubes. "Did you have a dream?" Little Kanna asked. "Hm?" "I've woken up like that before, when I had that kind of dream—the kind where I grew big, really, really big." That was the inheritance from the Rebel Dragon God that Little Kanna had absorbed. Karen said, "Then mine might be different from yours. What I saw was tiny, really, really small." "Oh." Little Kanna shrugged. "Then we don't have common ground in our dreams. Or could it be that kids all want to grow up, while adults want to turn back into kids?" "Heh, you're so smart." Little Kanna pouted and sat back down to do her homework. Holding his water glass, Karen stepped out of the tent. The tent stood atop a Golden-Armored Dragon Turtle. After pulling away from the forward communications unit earlier, the legion was now rapidly closing the distance. According to calculations, tomorrow morning the communications unit would enter the enemy's encirclement, and the main legion had to arrive at the battlefield and launch the assault by noon to minimize the risk to the communications unit. Sipping the ice water, Karen shook his head. Suddenly, a wave of hunger surged within him. Though not intense, it was undeniably real. Karen immediately pulled a cigarette from the Church of Thunder out of his pocket, lit it, took a deep drag, and clamped a hand tightly over his chest, asking, "Why are you suddenly acting up?" There was no reply, but the hunger addiction did not escalate, remaining steady. "Hey?" Neo's voice came from behind Karen. His military tent was situated on the Golden-Armored Dragon Turtle just ahead of Karen's. Accustomed to taking psychic potions, his sleep was fragmented; he would wake after sleeping for just an hour. So he simply stepped out for some fresh air, only to turn around and spot Karen holding a cigarette. "Karen, don't scare me." Evidently, Neo saw at a glance what Karen was dealing with. "Damn it! The real fighting starts tomorrow, and we need you standing atop the bone dragon to boost morale for the whole army. You're having an episode now?" Karen shook his head. "I'm fine. It's not a big problem this time." Hearing him say that, Neo relaxed and teased, "What is this, you got woken up by hunger while sleeping?" "Something like that." "Why does it sound so much like leg cramps? Heh, why are you just like that little bone dragon of yours? Could you still be growing?" Karen couldn't be bothered to entertain him and waved a hand. "I'm going back in to try and get some more sleep. You should rest early too." Neo watched Karen's departing figure. Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, the smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a disgruntled, exasperated expression: "Hey, I say..." Karen stopped in his tracks and looked back at him. "What is it?" Neo asked with palpable indignation, "You've been stuck in the servant realm for quite a while now, haven't you?"